


Always Be A Game

by imperfectkreis



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Blindfolds, F/F, Kissing, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Restraints, Rimming, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectkreis/pseuds/imperfectkreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sole Survivor Sadi invites her not-girlfriend Rowdy on a "shopping trip," meaning stealing everything on the U.S.S. Constitution that isn't nailed down. Somewhere along the line, they get more involved in Wasteland turf wars than they intended. Nothing is ever either/or. There is always another way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Be A Game

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2016 Fallout Big Bang. Art from the incredibly talented and amazing [Melonkollie](http://melonkollie.tumblr.com/)!!! They were such a delight to work with and I'm totally floored by the art they produced to go along with this fic!

“You’ll like it,” Sadi smiles. Rowdy can just make out the white of her teeth set behind dark pink lips. She’s pretty sure everyone else can hear them, but that’s yet to stop them.

Rowdy huffs, pinned softly below Sadi’s bony body, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She’ll trim them back in the morning. “I doubt that.”

“When have I ever let you down, doll?”

Laughing, Rowdy snakes her short-cut nails under the hem of Sadi’s tee, rucking it up to press her palms against Sadi’s stomach. Summer is starting to barrel down on them and it’s really too warm to be wearing clothes to bed. But Roxy feigns displeasure when Sadi is here, crawling into Rowdy’s bunk mostly naked. So they make small concessions. 

“Do you need an enumerated list or what?” Instead of stroking, she starts scratching at Sadi’s skin. The room is too dim and Sadi’s too dark for the scratches to be quite visible. “Cause we can start with all those capacitors you lost.”

“I didn’t lose them! I needed them!”

“That was my shipment!” Rowdy barks. She’s almost angry now, remembering how her order from down South mysteriously came up eight units short after Sadi insisted she could escort the package personally.

Sadi rolls her eyes, flopping onto the bunk next to Rowdy. They barely fit side by side, so Rowdy has gotta turn, burying her face at Sadi’s neck. Not because it’s affectionate, they just need to share the space. Though there is an empty cot on the other side of the room. Right. 

“Told you, Preston was breathing down my neck about getting those turrets up. I’ll replace your damn capacitors.”

“Just like you replaced my lighter?”

“I did replace your lighter!” Sadi protests.

“Fuck, you took my vintage, engraved zippo and stuck it in one of your damn turrets!”

Sadi sing-songs, “And re~placed it!”

“With a plastic piece of shit,” Rowdy disengages from Sadi, leaning over the side of the bed to grab her jeans, then the lighter shoved in the back pocket of the pants. “What the fuck does this look like to you?”

“A vintage bic,” Sadi smiles around the tip of her tongue.

Rowdy lobs the lighter at Sadi’s forehead. But they’re bunched so close together in the bed, it bounces off of Sadi, narrowly missing Rowdy in the eye. “Fuck!”

“Will you two shut up!” Roxy calls from the top bunk. “Or just fuck already. Listening to you two sucking clit has to be less awful than this.”

Unembarrassed, Sadi laughs, trying to waggle her eyebrows, “We should give the lady what she wants.”

“You’re impossible,” Rowdy grunts, flipping over so she doesn’t have to face Sadi anymore.

But after a few minutes of silence, Rowdy feels Sadi’s long fingers at the hem of her boxer shorts, dipping lower, lower, until she teases at her pubic hair. Rowdy parts her legs, only just enough for Sadi’s index and middle fingers to slip between them, before clamping down again. 

Sadi doesn’t have the angle to move her wrist much, just pinned between Rowdy’s thighs. But she works Rowdy’s clit between her obscenely long fingers, rubbing it frantically between them, catching on the hard bones of her joints. Almost hurts, but Rowdy won’t concede either that she almost likes it. Likes it too, when Sadi starts kissing the back of her neck, where her thick hair has fallen away. Likes it more when Sadi’s teeth start scraping instead of the wet-plush of her lips.

Rowdy stifles her groan as she comes, reaching under the sheets to grab Sadi’s wrist and pull her hand away. Sadi would rub her raw, given half the chance, so Rowdy’s gotta stop her from overdoing it. Sadi’s mouth it still working though, and that’s okay.

Shifting back to face Sadi, Rowdy figures she can’t be selfish or anything. Though Sadi really, really owes her a lot. She owes her a lot of material shit. Caps or chems or something to make up for all the times she’s fucked up and broken shit she shouldn’t have been fumbling with in the first place.

Shouldn’t be here in Rowdy’s bunk, either. 

Sadi rolls onto her back, spreading her legs so Rowdy can easily slip her hand into her boxers, sliding two fingers into her slick cunt without much trouble. Rowdy curls her fingers like she already knows Sadi likes. Showed her one time, Sadi’s bigger hand shaped around Rowdy’s smaller one, showing her exactly how to bend. Now Rowdy mostly gets it right on her own.

Arching her back up off the mattress, Sadi grinds into Rowdy’s hand, letting the bed groan beneath them. The heel of Rowdy’s hand rubs against Sadi’s clit, the pace as frantic as Sadi is willing to work against her.

Sadi is not loud when she comes. Though she was probably plenty loud before, squeezing around Rowdy’s fingers. She lets her hips fall back down, her limbs relax. The tension from her spine only really leaves when she lets it. But it’s gone now.

Rowdy is content enough not to talk after. They might just fight again. Sadi’s fingers tangle in the back of Rowdy’s hair. It’s weirdly intimate, but Rowdy doesn’t want to disturb the peace. As Sadi’s breathing evens out, Rowdy almost gets to sleep with her head against Sadi’s shoulder before her bedmate has to open her big fat mouth again.

“I want you to come with me tomorrow,” Sadi says, drawing circles against the back of Rowdy’s neck.

“What?”

Roxy doesn’t say anything this time; she must have finally fallen asleep.

“I gotta go do this thing, out on the river. You should come with me.”

Rowdy scrunches her nose. She’s seen Sadi with other people, “companions,” who help her do whatever it is she happens to be doing on a given day. Changes a lot. Sometimes it’s that woman, Piper, from the paper. With her sly smile and hazel eyes. She’s pretty. Rowdy figures Sadi is fucking her too. And sometimes it’s that lug of a Paladin from the Brotherhood, who looks too closely at the Cat’s armor sets, like he can still see the Steeler’s paint on it, though Rowdy knows for sure she sands it all off when Sadi drops off the “borrowed” kits. She’s fairly certain Sadi isn’t sleeping with him.

“And why the fuck would I want to go to the river?”

“Heard about some robots on a boat. Figured you’d want to check it out. See if there’s anything you can use, salvage shit.”

Rowdy laughs against Sadi’s shoulder, “Taking me shopping, then?”

“Something like that,” there’s a smile in Sadi’s voice.

“Normally a first date is dinner or some shit, right? You’re taking me to fight robots?”

“Seen you fight, know you can handle yourself. And this way, you can pick out what you like. I know I always get it wrong.”

“You do have terrible taste,” Rowdy admits. “Okay, let’s go.” She hopes she doesn’t come to regret saying yes. 

\--

The Mr. Handy crunches up to them. Something inside of it is broken. Not that Rowdy could tell what, exactly. Given time to muck around inside its guts, maybe she could find the problem through trial and error. She can be clever like that, but she’s not trained to know a malfunction from the way a robot sounds. All she knows is Lookout sounds wrong.

“Identify yourselves!” Lookout barks, his spherical eyes grinding up and down, one trained on Sadi, the other on Rowdy.

Cocking her hip, Sadi pulls off her helmet, tucking it against her waist. Rowdy keeps hers on, unconvinced that this isn’t going to end in a firefight. Never can tell from Handys’ looks if they’re soft or not.

“Lieutenant Sadi Mukherjee, Sixth Power Armor Division,” he voice has all the clipped directness of a soldier. 

“One moment, soldier!” Lookout waits very still before coming back to animated false-life. “Credentials confirmed! Welcome aboard the U.S.S. Constitution, Lieutenant Mukherjee!”

Only then does Rowdy pull off her helmet, clipping it to the strap on her pack. She hasn’t brought much with her, leaving space in her bag to cram what salvage they come up with. She was promised many shiny things, after all. “I can’t believe that worked…”

Sadi shrugs, “I guess my discharge paperwork was never finalized? I don’t know. For all we knew, back then, we’d all end up deployed again at the first sign of trouble. Wouldn’t matter why we were kicked out in the first place.” 

Lookout stays behind to, well, look out. There’s got to be a way into the ship somehow, but the path isn’t clear. She and Sadi wander around the bow of the ship, searching for a pathway that leads further up. Eventually, they find a cobbled together staircase, taking them to the deck above. 

“Let me go first,” Sadi insists, “I’m heavier, so we’ll know it’ll hold you.”

Rowdy snickers, like she would ever volunteer to lead the way.

The ladder holds and once Sadi reaches the top, Rowdy follows. The path curves around again. Below their feet are heavy track marks, made by robots, probably. Assaultrons, maybe, since the Handys use burners to float. But the depressions are too deep for human feet. If the rickety scaffold holds Assaultrons, she and Sadi might as well be feathers skimming along the surface of the wood.

They make it to the metal hatch of the ship, Sadi throwing it open.

“You work on boats like this?” Rowdy asks.

Truth be told, she’s still unconvinced that Sadi’s story is true. She’s only ever heard it in broad strokes, not questioning the details, really. But never believing the tales outright. It just sounds so impossible. Sadi was born, lived, before the bombs fell. She was a soldier in the Wars that ruined the world. If people like Sadi were soldiers, Rowdy can fucking believe they messed up. Sadi is careless and hot-headed and selfish and not exactly the brightest bulb. Maybe, maybe she means well. But Rowdy is never entirely sure.

So yeah, if all those years ago, women and men were like Sadi, Rowdy can’t say she’s entirely surprised with the present they’re stuck with now. 

“Nah. I mean,” the door comes open, “I got transported up to Alaska by boat, then back home but, I didn’t work on the ship. Mostly spent the time aboard sneaking liquor and making friends.”

“Right,” Rowdy follows her inside.

“Besides, this boat was a tourist attraction. It was built like, three hundred years before the War? It’s from the American Revolution.”

“The what?” Rowdy suddenly feels quite silly. She has some idea of the Revolution. But she should’ve known the ship was old, unmodern.

The deck is populated with a dozen or so military issue robots; Sargent Handys, Assaultrons, specialized Protectrons. They’re not in the best condition, but they’re working. That means they’re at least good for some of the scrap inside. But more than that, there are crates of military supplies everywhere. Ammunition, sheets of metal stacked against the wall, boxes of screws and nails. Toolboxes...toolboxes that might actually have tools inside.

Rowdy has to stop herself from reaching out, grabbing everything in sight and shoving it into her pack. They’ve got to be careful. With this many robots, they’ll never stand a chance if the bots switch hostile. The two of them only seem to be allowed inside because Sadi was a soldier, and for some reason, they think that means she belongs.

A mechanized voice comes on over the intercom, welcoming them to the U.S.S. Constitution, “Report to the upper deck at once, Lieutenant. We have much to discuss.”

“Yeah,” Sadi calls back into the empty air, “Sure thing.”

They head up the narrow stairs to the next floor, only for a Protectron to block their way. Rowdy, her eyes on a box of high grade rubber tubing, walks into Sadi’s long back by mistake. Instinctively, she puts her hands on Sadi’s waist to steady herself. Sadi presses her hand over one of Rowdy’s. 

“Halt! You should not be aboard, human!”

The Protectron can’t actually sound hostile, or, really, they always sound hostile. Cold and unwelcoming. Rowdy peeks out from behind Sadi. Not that she’s scared or anything. Just, Sadi makes a great meat shield. 

The disembodied voice returns, “I should not have to remind you, First Mate, that the Lieutenant has already been granted approval to come aboard. It would serve you well to review her service record.”

Sadi beams brightly, “Yeah, I’m a goddamn war hero, after all.”

“I must defer to my commanding officer. But consider yourself warned, Lieu-ten-ant.” The Protectron starts clambering away with heavy, stilted steps. There’s too much exhaust coming out of its back panel. And the color of the smoke is too dark. Everything aboard is starting to malfunction.

“War hero, huh?” Rowdy raises her eyebrow, finally stepping back around to Sadi’s side.

Sadi shrugs, “Of course! Would you expect anything less. You’ve seen me in a firefight.”

Rowdy has, and that’s why she questions it. Sadi is scary accurate with a laser rifle, that’s not in doubt. But she’s so fucking reckless too. Jumping in between cover, literally flying off of high-piled crates to tackle raiders to the ground and punch their faces in. She’s loud and brash and operates without any sort of tactical sense. So yeah, she expects less.

But it’s not as if Rowdy is, experienced? Oh, she’s used to shooting, and killing, and all of that. Had to do a lot more of it before Zeke peeled her up off the pavement where her ‘friends’ left her to die. That hole in her abdomen still looks ugly and gnarled with scar tissue. But raiders, even those who survive for a long time, aren’t soldiers. And Sadi fights harder than the meanest raider fuck Rowdy has ever seen.

They hit the next hatch and climb back outside. Sadi reaches down to offer Rowdy a hand up, even though she doesn’t need it. Up top there are a few more robots, the same sort of mixture of models. There’s no way this many units were aboard when the bombs hit? Sure, the ship is big, but it seems like entirely too many. Not all of them are in military paint either. So they must have picked up a handful of units over the years.

“Why are the robots here?” Rowdy doesn’t actually mean it as a question.

“I hadn’t been to the museum since my sister and I were kids, but, I think a bunch of them worked here? You know, maintenance work or entertaining the tourists? Don’t know about the others, though.”

“They’ve collected a lot of materials.”

“Yeah, what else are you gonna do with your spare time?”

The disembodied voice meets them in the metal. A hulking sentry bot with its bulbous body heavily stained. It wears a funny little felt hat on it’s head, and greets them as “Captain Ironsides.”

“Splendid, splendid that you could make it, Lieutenant. Just when we had about lost hope.”

Sadi straightens her posture, like she really is addressing a commanding officer. When her body language shifts like that, makes Rowdy almost believe she was a soldier, someone with a shred of discipline. “How may I be of service, sir?” 

“As you may have been able to ascertain, our situation here here somewhat dire.” Even when holding completely still, Ironsides is incredibly loud, drowning out the noise of the other robots hovering or lumbering about. “Our vessel requires a number of repairs to key systems. And while I have many fine soldiers aboard, it appears we have become moored in this position. It is difficult for any of my people to go ashore and find suitable replacement components. At least, that’s what my Chief of Engineering tells me. My navigator also requires aid. There is much work to be done, and we do not have enough capable hands.”

Sadi laughs lightly, a silver bell sound that doesn’t suit her features. It sounds affected, false. Comically so. But Ironsides is a robot, so it probably can’t tell one way or another. “I suppose a lack of hands often causes you trouble,” she holds her hand out, clenching and unclenching her fingers as if she’s grabbing at something that is not there.”

“Ah, yes,” Yeah, even the fucking robot is unsure what to make of Sadi. At least Rowdy isn’t alone on that count. 

“So is this paying work or what?” Sadi questions.

“You will be compensated at the regulated daily rate for non-commissioned officers adopting additional duties. Adjusted for inflation, that should be exactly 200 caps.”

Sadi shakes her head, “That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

The sentry bot wheels back slightly, as if in shock. For a split second Rowdy thinks the damn thing is going to open fire on them, and Rowdy’s aware she can run her mouth faster than her feet. 

“What the Lieutenant means to say,” Rowdy’s got to think quick, “Is that retrieving components from off the boat is going to require ammunition, rations, and supplies to get there and back. We’re going to need expenses covered. It ain’t just inflation, it’s the surcharge for the inhospitable conditions.”

Ironsides wheels forward again. “Of course, of course. Yes, I must have missed that paragraph in the operations manual, but you are quite right that you should be properly supplied. You should take what you may need from our stores, and be provided with a daily rate of three-hundred and fifty caps.”

Next to her, Rowdy can hear Sadi exhale, “Cool, we’ll get on that, then.”

“You should-” 

Before Ironsides can finish, a boom rattles the side of the ship, followed by the cracking of dried wood, splintering in all directions. A frag grenade explodes against the side of the hull. 

“To your battle stations!” Ironside roars as loudly as his modulator will allow. “Lieutenant! Man the canon!”

“Er,” Sadi looks to Rowdy, as if she has any fucking idea what to do. Rowdy’s never fired anything bigger than a gauss rifle. Which is pretty fucking big sure, but it ain’t a fucking canon. “Right!”

Rowdy’s gotta say, she’s not sure what she should be doing in this situation, but her instincts tell her to get behind cover first, worry about the rest later. Sadi darts off towards the canon, not looking back. To Rowdy’s left is an intact railing, a metal crate shoved up against the side. Keeping low, she slides towards the crate, popping the lid open to raise her cover little, but also check out what’s inside. 

There’s a minigun, which would be great if the fuckers shooting at them weren’t thirty plus yards out. A sniper rifle in shit condition, which, fuck, still might be her best option. And an assault rifle, which looks sweet as hell but will only work out marginally better than the minigun at this sort of distance. 

Rowdy grabs the rifle and the .308s, getting the thing loaded as efficiently as she can. Just as she clicks the clip closed, she hears Sadi’s first booming shot from the canon, bellowing out across the shore. Sadi screams like it’s the best fucking orgasm she’s ever had. Makes Rowdy sort of jealous, sort of.

Knocking the lid back down, Rowdy uses the surface of the crate to rest most of the weight of the sniper rifle. The scope on it ain’t bad, so now she can at least see who it is firing at them. Looks like run of the mill scavengers. They’re dressed plainly enough, utilitarian armor pieced together from many sources. So they’re not Gunners, which is a bit of a relief. Whoever they are might badly want to get aboard, but they haven’t planned very well for this attack. 

Rowdy picks out a target in the collapsed row home across the street. Whoever it is wears a bandana over their mouth and sunglasses over their eyes. They’re using a cracked bathtub for cover, which ain’t the smartest idea. Rowdy aims between their eyes, inhale, exhale, trigger. She only watches them long enough to make sure the bullet rides through. She was lucky. While she’s a decent shot, she ain’t gonna pretend that wasn’t a little bit luck.

The scavengers start screaming as Sadi’s second cannonball roars through, smashing into one of their number, flattening him out before crunching through the pavement.

“Aw fuck this!” Sadi shouts. 

Rowdy barely has time to look in Sadi’s direction before Sadi’s darting away. Leaving the canon behind, she swings her laser rifle off her back and into her hands with practiced ease. Fuck. Whatever this is, isn’t gonna be great. 

Amidst the ricochet of gunfire, denting into the metal of the robots aboard, sinking into the flesh of the scavengers below, Sadi jumps up onto the wooden railing of the ship. She’s such a fucking showoff. She’s not even suited in her power armor, but she jumps from the side of the boat onto the rubble below. Shit, shit, shit. Rowdy goes back to her sniper rifle. If Sadi’s broken both her legs in the fall, there’s nothing she can do about it until the scavengers retreat. So Rowdy lines up her next shot.

But Sadi hasn’t broken herself to pieces, and seconds later she rushes into Rowdy’s line of sight, zig-zagging across the open plane of pavement, getting in close enough to her target that the laser blast will do some serious damage. Lingering on the scene longer than she should, Rowdy watches as Sadi hits the nearest scavenger in the upper chest.

The scavenger falls, but she’s still breathing. Rowdy can tell just about that much through her scope. Oh, she realizes. Sadi doesn’t want to shoot to kill. That makes a lot more sense. Fuck.

Rowdy scans the adjacent buildings for more snipers, finding one on the third floor of an old office building. So forget about the head. She aims for the sniper’s shoulder, that will be enough to keep them from firing again.

\--

They win, of course they win. Because Sadi is some sort of pre-War super soldier with little impulse control but a lot of implicit tactical knowledge. She scares the scavengers. Scares them good. And they go running. 

Maybe they were expecting the cold, detached decisions of bots, and what they got was a prankster who liked the sight of blood long before the world half-died. 

Sadi calls up to her from the ground below. “Not bad, eh doll?”

There’s no way Sadi can see Rowdy roll her eyes from this distance, but they fucking spin anyway. Gives Rowdy a small measure of comfort that she put in the effort of making her displeasure known. “Get the fuck up here.” 

Rowdy goes to put the borrowed sniper rifle away. But as she’s packing the crate, Ironsides tells her that he’ll make sure requisitions is informed she’ll be keeping the gun. 

They’ll be keeping a lot more than that. But Rowdy thanks the robot, all charming sweetness, though she doubts it makes a bit of difference.

Sadi makes it back to the deck, her armor ripped across the side of her arm where a bullet grazed her. Nicked the skin too, but she's already clotted, a thick, dark line of blood that isn't running, just clinging to her skin. Messing with the wound now probably would only make it worse.

“Mission accomplished, Captain,” Sadi reports. 

“Good work, Lieutenant, really does look like you arrived just in time. The attacks have become more frequent and sustained. Which is why it is of the utmost importance that we get the Constitution sea-worthy as soon as possible. Please speak to our Chief Engineer, Bosun. They should be below.”

Sadi nods sharply, but doesn't salute. Grabbing Rowdy’s hand, they head below deck again, to meet this Chief Engineer.

“Whaddaya say? We just blow them?”

Rowdy shakes her head, “You were right, too many, too well armed. You have a plan?”

Sadi smiles, “Never.” She's terrible at lying.

Bosun is a Mr. Handy. One of their appendages is badly damaged. It hangs limply at their side until Sadi greets them. Only then does tension in their arm return, and the Handy lifts their “eye” again.

“Cap’ said you need help.” Sadi plants her ass on the nearest workbench, her long legs hitting the floor. She lets them swing a little while Bosun explains the three power cables that need to be replaced. They admit that their dexterity isn't there anymore. The modulated voice sounds nearly ashamed. But that's not a robot thing.

Sadi frowns, “Don't worry about it. We’ll take care of everything.” Hopping off the table, Sadi’s boots clatter against the wood. She smiles sheepishly at Bosun. “Come on, doll.”

The box Bosun directs them to has three power cables inside, just enough for the repairs. They're not such hot shit, though, clearly salvaged from somewhere else. 

Sadi grabs all three, tossing one to Rowdy, “Think fast!”

Rowdy, in fact, fails to “think fast” and ends up with the cable smacking her squarely in the sternum before clattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” Rowdy shouts.

Having the decency to look guilty about it, Sadi apologizes before turning to work on the first replacement.

Rowdy grabs the cable, leaving in a huff to the other side of the ship to make the swap. She pries open the panel with a screwdriver from her pack. Brought the fucking thing to take bots apart, not help them with maintenance. 

Once inside the patch panel, Rowdy’s ready to make the change, eying the damaged cable. But thing is, the fray ain't too bad. It's just a little physical damage. She pockets the replacement cable in her bag and grabs a roll of tape instead. The screwdriver in her teeth, she patches the cable manually, waiting for the systems to sputter back on. Gotta wait for Sadi to flip the switch to know she's got it right. But Rowdy’s confident it'll hold.

“Ya about done there, doll?” Sadi calls from the other end of the ship. She’s already got one hand on the switch. 

Rowdy wraps up, clicking the panel closed louder than it needs to be. She takes the screwdriver out of her mouth, “Yeah, babe.”

Sadi does the honors of turning the circuit on. Without waiting to see the results of her hard work, Rowdy heads back over to her, the spare cable now tucked securely in her bag. If the bots aren’t gonna use it, might as well make sure it doesn’t go to waste.

Sadi’s smile is big and bright as the system comes online. The shaded part of the lower deck gets bright, and somewhere in the distance, Rowdy can hear a fan start spinning. Who knows what else is connected to that circuit?

“Killer,” Sadi pulls Rowdy by the front of her tee, stretching it out, fucker. Sadi’s lips taste like enthusiasm and cigarettes. 

Bosun thanks them, but Sadi is already halfway up the stairs before the bot mentions a relay coil that needs a replacement. This time, Bosun doesn’t have the needed part. They’ll have to buy or scav it. Rowdy knows she’s got one back at the garage, if she’s thinking of the right part. But that’s an awful hike there and back.

Sadi almost bends in half on the ladder to get a good look at Bosun, “The fuck?”

“You go talk to Ironsides,” Rowdy says, still at the bottom of the ladder. She skims her hand over Sadi’s ass. “I’ll go take a look.” 

Grunting, Sadi heads up while Rowdy goes to look at the power coil. Bosun hovers behind her, which puts her teeth on edge. Let a girl work in peace, for fuck’s sake.

Looking at the coil, Rowdy thinks she can fix it. Might take an hour or two, but that’s better than having to head all the way to the garage and back again. She pulls the coil from the coupling and sits crosslegged on the floor, trying to blot out the noise of the Mr. Handy up in her business. 

Rowdy’s not sure how long she’s at it before Sadi bounces back down the stairs, hopping from the last stair and onto the floorboards. Sadi says she’s forty-two. Rowdy doesn’t believe her. Not with the way she acts. Though the gray in her hair makes a case for her age. 

Sliding over to Rowdy, Sadi plops down on the floor, her knees sticking out too far. “How’s it going?”

Rowdy’s got pliers in her hand and and the coil wedged between her foot and the deck, trying to keep it still as she twists new connections in the old wires. “I think I can get this one fixed. But I’ll need more time.”

Sadi nods.

“What did Ironside’s say?” She doesn’t look up from her work.

“Ironsides told me to talk to Mr. Navigator, and Mr. Navigator says we need to get their guidance chip back.”

“I can see if I can-”

Before Rowdy can finish her sentence, Sadi interjects, “Nope, the whole thing was stolen. By those scavengers, seems like. There’s just a hole where it needs to go. Isn't anything for you to repair.”

“You have so little faith in my abilities,” Rowdy drawls.

Sadi laughs like it’s a great joke. Her natural laugh, which is full of joy, but not sweetness. She finds a great many things hilarious. 

“Even if we left now, don’t want to be meeting the scavengers today, and not in the dark. Don’t wanna look like a threat. So, I figure we bunk here tonight, head down there in the morning?”

Rowdy bites her bottom lip. She needs solder to make sure the joint won’t come apart. She didn’t think to bring any. But rifling around on the ship she might find some. Gives her an excuse to case the place too. “Okay sure.”

“Anything I can help with?” Sadi brings her knees towards her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins and making herself small. 

Rowdy hands her the half-finished coil. “Babysit this. I’ll be back.” She hops to her feet. “Bosun, do you have a soldering gun?”

“Yes, of course Ms. Rowdy, come this way.” Bosun’s arm goes slack again as he floats off in the direction of the workbenches. 

Sadi does as she’s told, holding the coil in both her hands reverently until Rowdy comes back with the solder. 

\--

Ironside offers them two cots on the lower deck, side by side with a foot of space in between. The cots haven’t been used in a long time. Don’t usually get visitors, particularly not those who need to sleep. The linens smell musty from disuse.

It’s strange, being close like this, but not on top of each other. They always share a cot at the garage. But now Rowdy’s got this strange feeling like they gotta use both cots for show. Like it ain’t appropriate if they share.

Sadi strips down like normal, tossing her pants into one corner of the room. She takes off her shirt, then her sports bra, before putting her shirt back on. Rowdy slips her bra out from through the armhole of her tee. 

The way Sadi flops down onto her cot, Rowdy’s surprised she doesn’t break the damn springs, but the frame holds. She’s more careful climbing into her own, but realizes her method is just as loud.

All the lights are still on. Probably won’t go off. But that’s fine. Rowdy just keeps her voice low. Maybe the fluorescents being bright will remind her that they’re not alone. 

“What is the plan here?”

Sadi doesn’t answer, but rolls over to grab a pen and pad of paper from her pack. She scribbles something near-indecipherable. But like Rowdy’s one to talk about having good penmanship. She didn’t even learn to write until she was fourteen. 

Maisie taught her, after she had joined up with the crew. Said it was best if someone other than her knew their letters. And Rowdy was young and smart enough. Would be easy to learn. So, Rowdy learned. Never got around to teaching anyone else. Maisie died when Rowdy was sixteen. Eight years later, the crew left Rowdy to die too. So, now she figures letters aren’t that important, after all. But Rowdy still likes them, even when they’re messy.

Sadi’s note says “The sentry bots the Problem.”

Rowdy nods. Hardest to fell. The Handys are easy. Protectrons are clunky and don’t move very fast. But sentry bots? Assaultrons? They’d need more people to fight them head on.

Sadi scribbles again. “Can u take him offline?”

No, she can’t. Don’t have the skills for that. Never did, probably never will. She shakes her head. Sadi drops her head back against the pillow. “We’ll come up with something.”

They’re quiet for two minutes, then three, and four, before Sadi rolls over again. Rowdy opens her eyes when the bedsprings creak.

“Hey,” Sadi asks, “wanna go smoke?”

Rowdy doesn’t know if that’s some secret code bullshit or what. But she replies, “Yeah.”

They pull their slacks back on, Sadi throwing her jacket over Rowdy’s shoulders. “Zip it up, yer tits are out.”

Rowdy scoffs, “You jealous?”

“Damn right.”

“They’re robots,” Rowdy reminds her.

Sadi shrugs and they start for the exit. Rather than going to the upper deck, they head back down to street level. 

“You met that synth I travel with sometimes, right? Valentine?”

Rowdy knows Detective Valentine, but didn’t realize that Sadi works with him. “Yeah?”

“He’s basically held together with duct tape, copper wire, and hope. And trust me, he definitely looks at tits.”

Wincing, Rowdy doesn’t bother to point out that Nick Valentine isn’t exactly a normal gen 2 synth.

“Pretty sure he looks at dudes’ asses too. I come 200 years in the future only to find out all the robots are bisexual. Who knew? What a time to be alive.”

Once outside, Sadi lights one cigarette, pressed between her lips, before handing it off to Rowdy to smoke. The second one she keeps for herself. 

Rowdy listens for the hum that comes from being a bucket of metal, but can’t hear any of the bots close. As long as they keep their voices down, they should be okay.

“We hurt people, because the robots said to,” Rowdy comments.

Sadi shakes her head, “I know, I know. I was trying to scare them off before too many got hurt. But I know I killed at least one of them. With that fucking cannon.

“I dunno if this is shit we should be fucking with. Or that helping the robots is the right thing to do. I mean, we’re here to scrap them too, right?” 

So, Rowdy supposes, they were defending their claim to first pickings of the salvage. That’s easier to wrap her mind around than protecting the robots.

Rowdy doesn’t have a damn problem with synths, in the abstract. Particularly the gen 3s. They’re the next closest thing to human. Johnny D. has sort of insinuated that he might be one. But he always sounds unsure of it. Like he doesn’t want it to be true, or doesn’t know how the others react. But he asks questions sometimes, when he’s home at the garage, that make Rowdy think he’s testing the waters with her. Oh, she has a problem with the Institute messing in their livelihood, trying to manipulate the whole Commonwealth to do their bidding or whatever. But she can’t fault a guy or gal for being who they are.

But they’re not talking about synths here. Are they? These are real, honest to fuck robots. From before the war. They’re not fancy. They’re not even approaching people. They’re steel, and circuits, valuable things to be taken apart, reused, live again in new entities. What’s that word? Rowdy saw it once. Sentient. They’re not sentient. 

Gesturing, Rowdy tries to remind Sadi to keep her voice low. 

“You know, you know what, never mind.” Sadi starts and stops, sucking on her cigarette instead.

Rowdy tries instead, because she feels it too. Like they're standing on the edge of a canyon, not next to the banks Charles. She feels it a lot, when she and Sadi almost talk, change their minds, circle back to something easier, that they can swallow without scraping the insides of their throats raw and red.

“I think I lived for a reason.” She hopes Sadi’s got the context on her own. Sadi talks to Zeke enough, and he loves the story of sweeping in to stab Rowdy full of stimpaks and med-x, even though she was screaming and clawing like a cornered cat. Meant that she would fit right in. “But I don't know what it was, yet.”

Sadi scrunches that hawk nose of hers and doesn't respond real quick. But the wall between them melts, a little. “Nora would've been fucking hamburger already, she wasn’t a fighter, but I still would trade my life for hers.”

“Nora?” Sadi hasn't heard the name before. 

“My sister. She...died, in the vault. She was killed. It's her kid I'm...it doesn’t matter. He’s at the Institute.”

Rowdy’s not sure what kind of response Sadi’s looking for here. She’s never talked about Nora before, or this mystery kid.

“So that's what this pre-War Popsicle on a mission thing is about? Your sister’s kid?” She doesn't mean it as a derision. But maybe it sounds that way.

“Yeah, at first.” Sadi blots out her cigarette against the side of the ship. “Now? Who the fuck knows,” it's her authentic laugh. And it's loud.

Reflexes are one of those things Sadi’s just got Rowdy beat on, so she nearly misses the way Sadi rocks her weight, slow at first and then a pounce, knocking Rowdy so her back hits the side of the ship, firm against her spine. Rowdy inhales sharply at the impact and she doesn’t have time to inhale again before Sadi’s lips are on hers. 

With her arms bracketed on either side of Rowdy’s head, she’s got her pinned in. Like Rowdy would ever think of making a break for it. Yeah right. But Rowdy does sink her teeth into Sadi’s bottom lip, trying to induce a little bit of shock of her own. 

Sadi takes her weight again, using her hips and shoulders to press Rowdy into the hull as they kiss in the darkness, wet, tasting of ash. Sadi’s warm but Rowdy’s pretty sure she's warmer, feeling the flush on her cheeks, breathing in between heartbeats. There's not supposed to be any expectations between them, right? This is for fun. But the way Sadi refuses to let go, how she gasps, drawing back, Rowdy wonders if they're both lying, and if those lies cancel each other out.

They are so fucked.

\--

The leader of the scavengers is named Mandy. A stout, older woman with gray hair and thick blue veins. Lucky, to live that long. Her nails are dirty but her button down clean. She's been working on scrapping an old car round back since dawn. 

Sadi and Rowdy slept in.

Mandy apologizes first, didn't know there were humans up on the Constitution. They've been trying for absolute ages to get a person on the inside. But no one has ever made it past Lookout. She asks Sadi and Rowdy how they managed it.

“Charm,” Sadi drawls.

Mandy looks at Sadi in her dingy tee and torn jeans. They didn't come in armor. Didn't want to start a fight, just needed to move forward with their lack-of-a-plan.

“Yeah right,” Mandy scoffs. “Robots don't work that way.”

Sadi winces, “it's a long story, okay?” She's not about to spill her guts about being the vaultie on the radio to a bunch of randoms who just yesterday were shooting back at them. “Point is, we’re inside.”

“That you are,” Mandy coos. It's an oddly upsetting tone, maybe because it's so patronizing, maternal. But she isn't their mother.

Sadi can't talk her way out of a paper bag. She just throws out sentences, smiles, and hopes for the best. Like that has ever worked. Well, maybe it worked on Rowdy, a little bit. Maybe Rowdy’s a sucker.

“Old Cap’ up there says you pilfered their guidance chip?” Sadi offers her pack of cigarettes to Mandy first, when she declines, she pushes them off to Rowdy, not even waiting for her to accept.

Mandy nods, “You know what that guidance chip is for? Those robots are trying to aim for us, blow us right off the planet. If we’re lucky, and their target isn't a more populated settlement.”

Sadi’s smile doesn't falter, “That so? Well, we can't have that.”

“No, we can not. But you know, better than any of the lazy louts I've got working the floor, that e ship is full of heavy artillery. Those robots are no joke.”

“Nope, nothing funny at all,” Sadi agrees. 

“We can take them down, but we need to work together.”

“Yep.”

Whether Sadi is lying or not, Rowdy isn't entirely certain. Sadi isn't a good liar, she's really not. But she's friendly, in a dopey sort of way. So maybe she means to be agreeable, but maybe she's yanking Mandy’s chain. One way or another, Rowdy isn't keen on sharing their spoils with a bunch of career scavengers when they're assuming all the risk.

Mandy agrees to hand over the guidance chip without a fight. And Sadi sounds real grateful about it, all “thank yous,” and “you won't regret this.”

Calling for one of her assistants to bring the chip, Mandy presses it into Sadi’s hand before wrapping her gnarled fingers around Sadi’s long ones. She squeezes down, it's that motherly act again, and more than ever, Rowdy knows it's not real. Not like she has the best frame or reference or anything. 

A promise is exchanged for a promise. Ironsides will ask more of “you two nice girls,” and when they find the opportunity, they need to sabotage the ship. Mandy has the technical know-how to do it, to blow the side clear off that damn boat. And her girls, her precious girls, who she just met, have the access now. Things are looking up.

\--

Sadi leaves the installation of the guidance chip to Rowdy, sing-songing that she's far more qualified. Otherwise, this will end up like Warwick, with Rowdy cleaning up after Sadi’s half-assed job. They never should have let the vaultie into the Atom Cats, that's for fucking sure. Maybe then Rowdy’s head wouldn't be so cloudy. Maybe then she wouldn't have to worry about her damn ethics. She could just write poetry, drink good beer, and exchange caps for sweet armor. Rowdy had a good thing going, before all this.

Installing the chip doesn't take long, but before she finishes, Sadi manages to creep up behind her, draping her arms over Rowdy’s shoulders and not-so-covertly covering Rowdy’s breasts with her hands. She squeezes down quickly before releasing. Rowdy doesn't give Sadi the pleasure of acting offended or surprised. Well, really, honestly? She's neither.

“I'm nearly done here.”

Sadi grunts. “Need a Poseidon radar transmitter.”

“I don't even know what that is,” Rowdy admits. She finishes up the installation, half supporting Sadi’s weight while she clips the final connections in place, slotting pins together.

“Got some places to look. Down South, by one of the old turbines.” Sadi starts rocking her hips, swaying them both from side to side. She rests her chin on Rowdy’s shoulder, having to curve her spine to get it that far down. Can't actually be comfortable. When she kisses the side of Rowdy’s neck, Rowdy doesn't hide her smile. They're not facing each other, so maybe Sadi will never know.

“How long you think you'll be gone?”

Sadi scoffs, “As if I would leave you behind, with all these lecherous robots.”

“The ones that ogle my tits?” Rowdy jokes.

“Yeah! Them.”

“That why you're intent on giving them a free show?”

“You're no fun,” Sadi pushes away and almost immediately Rowdy misses the warm column of heat that was at her back. 

Turning sharply, she goes to grab Sadi by the front of her shirt, pull her back in, but Sadi is already out of arm’s reach. Rowdy’s got no fucking idea what her problem is.

“Get ready, yeah? We’ll leave here in twenty. Plenty of daylight still to move.”

“Yeah,” Rowdy won't dare ask her what's wrong.

\--

Rowdy’s eyelashes brush against the blindfold. Sadi said it would be easier just to keep her eyes shut, but when does she ever do what Sadi says?

Sometimes, sometimes she does as she's told. But only because it's fun, and Sadi is ultimately harmless.

They were meticulous in clearing the turbine site, taking out every last radroach skittering along the catwalks. They've checked every corner of the building, under every damn desk, in every closet. They're safe to spend the night here, before heading back to the Charles.

Rowdy waits patiently while Sadi binds her hands, coiling rope around them, again and again, until her wrists are sure to be raw. Only once Sadi has knotted off the bindings, does Rowdy start to struggle. “It's a shitty knot,” she taunts, “I bet I could get out.”

“Betcha can't.” Sadi is at her back. They're both kneeling on the mattress on the floor. Cleanest one they could find. Raiders must have taken up here at some point, but they've long since moved on. Probably couldn't find any food or chems or whatever, or used up what was here. Moved on to their next target. Hard to put down roots when you've got no ambitions beyond survival.

Sadi moves so she’s behind Rowdy’s back, snaking her hand under Rowdy’s undershirt, spreading her fingers as far as she can against the curve of Rowdy’s stomach. She keeps their bodies flush together, her chest to Rowdy’s back, burying her nose in Rowdy’s hair. “Let's see you try, then.”

Thing is, Rowdy has been trying to work the knot loose, since the second it was tied off. Sadi’s got to know it, the way her hands keep fidgeting. “Just give me a minute.”

“Mmhmm,” Sadi’s terrible, and self satisfied. Leaving one hand on Rowdy’s stomach, she puts the other at the back of her neck, pulling Rowdy’s thick hair away so she can press her lips to her spine, wetter than her mouth needs to be, she starts to suck. Rowdy doesn't care if she bruises. She cares about the way the sensation travels, from her brain stem to her tailbone, fanning out into her abdomen. Sadi licks, then bites. Rowdy curses, and Sadi laughs.

“Well are you happy?” Rowdy huffs, indirectly admitting defeat. Her hands grow still, she won't get the knot open. She's only succeeded in making it tighter. Fuck.

“Always.”

Her hand is at Rowdy’s neck again, but this time she pushes Rowdy’s head towards the mattress. Keeping one hand hooked around Rowdy’s waist, Sadi makes sure Rowdy’s ass stays in the air. She's too good at this. Rowdy almost hates how much she likes it. But not really, because this is a hell of a benefits package, that's for fucking sure.

Sadi leaves Rowdy’s undershirt on, but tugs at the elastic of her underwear, dragging them from her hips. Rowdy wore cotton briefs today, not the boxers she prefers. Fits better under leather armor, not as bulky and shit.

“Your ass looks amazing,” Sadi says, like that's supposed to be charming, rather than just lewd. She gets the briefs down Rowdy’s thighs, but doesn't bother pulling them all the way off, letting them bunch around her knees.

If Rowdy tries for a smart-ass reply, it would just get buried in the mattress anyway. Smells like someone else’s sweat, someone else’s cigarettes, and gunpowder, which always smells the same, far as Rowdy can tell.

They’re living in a world inhabited by other people’s beds. Rowdy wonders what happened to the mattress Sadi slept on before the War, how many bodies shed skin there, only to slither away and die.

Rowdy feels the warm puff of Sadi’s breath against her skin only a second before the flat press of her tongue. Wet and sloppy with the kind of enthusiasm you’d expect from horny teenagers, not full-grown women. Not that Rowdy doesn’t like it, only her tongue isn’t against her clit, but swipes along the cleft of her ass instead. 

“Fuck,” Rowdy curses. It feels nice. Not so tightly wound, like when Sadi works her clit, fast and hard and like she’s trying to throw her off a cliff. The sensation of Sadi’s tongue is slower, pleasant, but less erotic, the way Sadi takes her time, pulling her apart and wetting her thoroughly. 

“Maybe you’d like for me to fuck your ass?” Sadi teases, blowing against the now-wet hole. “Don’t have my cock with me, but could stick my fingers inside, if you’d like?”

Rowdy’s hot enough, her mind fuzzy enough, that she might say yes. She might say yes anyway. Because it’s all good fun, right? But while her senses are all on edge, there’s still something impersonal about the way the quilted fabric of the mattress feels under her cheek. “Another time,” she rasps.

Sadi ducks her head again, this time licking against her folds, parting Rowdy’s labia with two fingers before touching the tip of her tongue against her clit, just enough to refocus Rowdy’s attention away from her ass. “What about here,” Sadi teases, “Want me to lick you raw, doll? Or,” she places the pad of her index finger to Rowdy’s channel, dipping ever slightly inside. “I could fuck you?”

HIssing, Rowdy agrees, “Fuck me.”

Sadi laughs, sliding one of her long fingers inside. Not enough, not nearly enough. He finger is bony and warm but not enough. Fucker knows it too. Rowdy can feel the wicked smile as Sadi kisses her lower back, right where she probably has lines in her skin from the armor that's a little on the small side, digging into her hips and stomach all fucking day.

“You're going to be good, right?” Sadi asks, drawing her finger back out before slotting a second alongside the first. Now they're getting somewhere. 

Rowdy jerks her hips back, wrecking whatever slow torture Sadi might have planned. “Never,” she snarls.

Jerking out, Sadi grabs Rowdy’s hips in both hands, flipping her onto her back in one motion. She's strong. Rowdy knows it, but it keeps taking her by surprise how good Sadi is with her strength, how the gangly awkwardness can fall away in bed or the battlefield. Rowdy still can't see shit behind the blindfold, but she can feel Sadi’s angular body loom over her, one hand coming to her throat. Sadi squeezes lightly before releasing.

“You wanna fight me, doll?”

“Yeah, babe.”

“You wanna win?”

“Nah, babe,” Rowdy’s breath hitches as Sadi slips back inside, “Nah.”

“Fight me, then.”

Rowdy smiles. She tries to twist out from under Sadi, curling her legs to her chest, keeping them on either side of Sadi’s hips as the Vaultie slips in between, her fingers working more quickly now inside Rowdy’s cunt, the back of Sadi’s hand brushing against her own clit as she thrusts her hips as fast as her fingers.

Finding a moment of opportunity, when the pressure of Sadi’s body against hers isn’t as heavy, Rowdy tries to jerk herself away, get out from underneath. But her hands are still bound and she can’t see shit and Sadi just laughs too loudly into her ear. Makes her eardrums hurt, before sticking her free hand in the center of Rowdy’s sternum and holding her there. “Nice try.”

Rowdy grunts in frustration, but it’s half-hearted. Sometimes she just wants to win. Show Sadi that even though the whole Wasteland thinks she’s a fucking savior, that ain’t enough for Rowdy. All Sadi’s good deeds might not be enough, but the steady beat of her fingers and mouth might be, as she stops banging her hips against Rowdy’s, choosing instead to curl her back and lick long and wet against Rowdy’s clit until she doesn’t want to be anywhere but here.

\--

“Doll?”

Rowdy’s most of the way to sleep when Sadi’s voice breaks through the otherwise silent building. They’d planned on leaving early in the morning. They’ve got to get to General Atomics for another component. Trubopump bearings. Sadi promises that’s the last thing on their shopping list. Plan is to take the pieces to Mandy first, see what she wants to do about it.

“Go the fuck to sleep,” Rowdy mumbles. She’s unused to so much travel. Not that she can’t handle it. Just her feet are sore and she’d kind of still been in the long, wonderful afterglow that good sex can induce. And here Sadi had to go and ruin it. Typical. 

“Mandy is going to kill all those robots. When we help her?”

What does Sadi believe, really? They’ve never really talked about it. They don’t talk much about anything. This was just supposed to be for fun. Yeah, it’s totally fun following Sadi out across the Wastes, getting shot at everyday, blisters on her feet, and ringing in her ears. That’s all this is. Fun. The more Rowdy repeats her mantra, the less true she knows it is. 

“They’re robots. They’re not alive,” Rowdy explains.

Next to her, Sadi rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Rowdy wills herself to stay on her side, facing away. She doesn’t want to curl into Sadi, no matter how much her body aches for it.

“I know,” Sadi sighs. “They always told us that. But it still never felt...right…”

“These aren’t synths.” Rowdy winces. She’s opening up a whole other can of worms now. “I think, maybe, synths are people. Johnny D., he’s a synth, maybe. You can’t tell, ya know? But these aren’t synths. They’re robots. We were gonna scrap them ourselves anyway. Now we just have help,” she tries to appeal to whatever shred of logic Sadi might actually have.

In the long silence that follows, Rowdy is certain Sadi has fallen back asleep. Maybe she wasn’t even awake when she started talking. Sadi’s got all sorts of...weird shit. Sometimes her eyes fly open when she’s still asleep. A couple of times, she’s woken up screaming. Then in the morning, she’s smiling again. Rowdy hasn’t tried to understand, because it’s not often enough to really worry. She figures Sadi has seen enough shit for two lifetimes. 

“Rowdy?” Not asleep, then.

“Yeah?”

“Father, the leader of the Institute….he’s my nephew.”

Now Rowdy is certain Sadi is just dreaming. 

Reaching inside her bag, Rowdy grabs her cigarettes and shitty lighter. She’s gotta go smoke, wait it out until Sadi stops talking in her sleep.

\--

It’s not until they’re leaving the General Atomics factory, the Turbopump bearings stashed inside Rowdy’s bag, that Sadi speaks of anything serious again. 

“Why do you think robots have personalities?”

Rowdy’s grip around the strap of her bag tightens until her knuckles turn white. “What’s that word, ah, anthropomorphism? It’s like, the same reason we think dogs and cats and shit act like people. We care about not-people more, if we can see them as people?” It’s a shot in the dark. And Rowdy’s not sure she’s even explaining it right. But she read something about this. In a pre-War book about writing poetry. Once she got good at reading, that was the kind of shit she liked best. 

“But,” Sadi chews at her lower lip. “Fuck it, doesn’t matter.” No matter how big Sadi’s smile is, Rowdy is certain it’s fake. But she doesn’t push the subject. They’ve gotten everything on Ironside’s list, now they’ve just got to talk it over with Mandy, figure out what their next step is. 

\--

Sadi sits on the edge of Davies workbench while he makes ‘modifications’ to the Turbopump bearings. She’s got a socket wrench in her hands, holding onto the drive square while she twirls the ratchet. It makes a horrible noise, but at least it’s keeping her entertained. 

Rowdy’s got nothing to do, so she throws herself on the couch in the workshop, resting her tired feet on the armrest and staring at the ceiling, or, at least, what’s left of the ceiling. 

Mandy joins them before too long, motioning for Rowdy to move so she’s not taking up the whole couch. Rowdy grumbles. They’re the guests here! But Mandy is running this scavenger operation, so she figures it’s not her place to rock the boat any, and she sits up straight on the couch, feet planted on the floor. 

“I wanted to talk to you, child,” Mandy starts.

Rowdy scoffs, she’s hardly a child, not anymore. But Mandy is old, the kind of Wasteland old that comes from cleverness and ruthlessness in equal measure. Sure, there are others who grow to be really old. Rowdy knows about Mama Murphy, up in Sanctuary. Everyone knew about Mama Murphy when she was down in Quincy too. You don’t survive a massacre like that without being fierce. If Mandy is lucky, she’ll live to be that old too. Rowdy doesn’t even dare to dream.

“What?” Rowdy’s not trying to be friendly, but she’s not trying to be confrontational either. 

“You’ll be the one to install the bearings, I take it?”

In unison, they both glance over the back of the couch, over to where Sadi is still fiddling with Davies’ toolkit, trying to build some sort of wall out of differently sized sockets. Rowdy frowns, “Yeah, I’ll be the one to install it.”

Mandy nods, like she’s about to give some real sage advice. “Make sure you don’t stray too far before Ironsides flips the switch. This is a controlled explosion we’re setting up. And we’ll need you two in close, to keep the robots on their toes until we get in.”

Rowdy smiles. Mandy is lying. By what degree, Rowdy won’t be able to tell until she’s got her hands back on those sabotaged bearings. But she’s already certain Mandy is trying to get her and Sadi killed. That would be two fewer ways they’ve got to split the salvage. And women like Mandy? They’re clever and ruthless, and seldom kind.

Mandy pats Rowdy on the shoulder as she stands, her calloused hand tracing up the line of Rowdy’s jaw until she’s cupping her chin. Smiling faintly, Mandy parts her lips as if to speak, but ends up saying nothing at all. Once she’s turned, gone from the workshop, Rowdy dips her head to wipe her cheek against her shoulder.

Without warning, Sadi vaults over the back of the couch to land at Rowdy’s side. The thump she makes when she hits the cushion doesn’t sound normal. Then again, a 200 year old couch isn’t a fucking jungle gym. Rowdy turns her head sharply to greet Sadi’s smiling face. “I’ll fucking kill her if you want?” Sadi’s expression doesn’t change.

“You saw that?” Rowdy didn’t get the impression Sadi was paying attention. 

“Course. I’m always looking out for you.”

Rowdy doesn’t have a clever comeback, and she doesn’t want Sadi to see the flush creep over her cheeks. “You’re the one who wanted to ally with her.”

Leaning forward, Sadi licks a long stripe across Rowdy’s jaw, leaving a sheen of saliva where Mandy’s fingers trailed. It’s gross. Yeah, that’s what it is.

Before Rowdy can respond, Sadi’s already getting up, going to get the bearings from Davies. Rowdy doesn’t even really think about wiping the spit off her skin. 

Slow minutes pass. Rowdy doesn’t really pay attention to what Sadi and Davies discuss, letting their conversation drop into white noise. By the time Sadi rounds the couch, holding out the bearings for Rowdy to stuff in her pack, Rowdy has almost forgotten where she is. 

They leave the scavengers’ camp, Sadi with her hands stuck in the back pockets of her jeans and Rowdy holding onto her bag like it might try to get away. They’re halfway back to the boat before the knot in Rowdy’s stomach finally bursts. She has to tell Sadi about the explosion, obviously. But there’s something else. Something Rowdy can’t vocalize until her lips wrap around the syllables. 

“Mandy wants us dead.”

Sadi laughs, “I know.” She shakes her head, loose hair that’s fallen from her braid catching in the damp sweat clinging to her neck. “I’ve known for awhile. Figured it out.”

“Liar,” Rowdy doesn’t believe it. Because otherwise, why would they have come this far? But Sadi keeps them on the path towards the Constitution. Step. Step. Before turning to look over her shoulder. Taking her hand from her pocket, she grabs Rowdy’s arm instead, pulling her sharply to the right.

They keep walking, calm and steady, as if nothing at all is wrong. As if this was to be their path all along. Sadi lets go of Rowdy’s elbow, throwing her arm over her shoulders instead. Their sides brush against each other as they make their way along the bank of the Charles, the Constitution to their backs. 

“Gonna tell me what’s going on?” Rowdy asks without her feet stopping.

“Don’t feel like dying today, maybe tomorrow.”

Maybe.

Anycase, Rowdy lets her shoulders relax under the weight of Sadi’s arm. She doesn’t need the salvage that bad. 

\--

Sadi walks them all the way back to the Atom Cat’s garage. Her mouth is full of so many half-true stories about her life before the War, Rowdy doesn’t really notice the time passing until Sadi shouts for Zeke, exclaiming that she’s returned their best gal in one piece. The bearings are still in Rowdy’s pack. 

They can’t just do nothing, can they?

Zeke waves at them from the garage, his hands covered in grease. He doesn’t run out to greet them, still focused on his work. 

“Sadi?” Rowdy asks.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Really though, what are we doing?” She’ll let Sadi interpret her question however she wants.

Crinkling her face, making the wrinkles around her eyes deepen, for once in her fucking life, Sadi chooses her words carefully. “I’ll go back tomorrow. Deal with this. Ain’t no reason to get you involved. This hasn’t gone according to plan.”

Rowdy slips her hand into her pack, ready to hand over the sabotaged component. But she can’t make her fingers curl. “I could reverse it, you know? Set it back so it’ll work for Ironsides.”

“Time machine would be better,” Sadi frowns. Without hesitation, she leaves Rowdy behind, shouting at Zeke about the repairs to her power armor. Zeke calls back that he’s not running a charity here.

The bearings weigh her down, their heaviness amplifying with each step towards the garage. Sadi is already out of sight, though Rowdy can hear her booming voice, even if the words are indecipherable.

In a moment of panic, she wonders if it's best to just throw the bearings into the river, watch them sink? Maybe that's how they absolve themselves from this mess. Maybe that's how they forget. Rowdy can't build a time machine. No one can. Besides, there are sins worth fixing. This little adventure? It's nothing but an insignificant blip in time, barely registered. Because Sadi can't help but fuck with a future in which she doesn't belong. Hubris.

And just for a second, Rowdy hates Sadi. But that's not fair either.

She holds onto the bearings, waiting for whatever it is Sadi wants.

\--

Sadi doesn't come to bed. Rowdy doesn't know where she went. And she's not about to ask Zeke. That would be caring, too much. And Sadi is already too much to bear. While Rowdy still has the component in her pack, hung up on a sturdy nail beaten into the wall, that doesn't mean that Sadi hasn't turned back towards the ship anyway.

Rowdy climbs into bed, pulling her knees towards her chest. The narrow twin bed feels spacious, without Sadi crowding her in. Above her, Roxy is already sound asleep, the occasional noise of her stuffed-up breathing breaking up the gentle hum of nighttime.

Sleep is easy, though the night is uncomfortably warm. That is, until there's a tap at Rowdy’s shoulder. At this point, she's not even surprised, rolling over to her other side to meet Sadi’s face. Sadi crouches at the side of the bed, sweat clinging to her forehead.

“Wanna smoke?”

No, Rowdy doesn't.

“Sure.”

Rowdy doesn't bother getting dressed, or even putting on shoes. They pad outside, Rowdy in bare feet and Sadi in combat boots. Sadi’s thin shirt has been shredded, blood stained at the edges. But the magic of stimpaks means she looks little worse for the wear.

They sit side by side on the bare concrete of the garage floor. Sadi stretches her legs out in front of her, sticking her toes towards the air. Putting two cigarettes into her mouth, she lights them one after the other, before passing one off to Rowdy. Rowdy just holds it, not managing to take the stick to her mouth.

This time, Rowdy knows for certain that Sadi is awake. “The leader of the Institute is my nephew,” the statement is even darker in repetition. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“I'm too late,” Sadi stares out into the distance, but Rowdy can't tell if she's particularly focused on anything at all. “I'm sixty years too late to save him.”

Rowdy doesn't have an appropriate response. But like a windup toy ready to expel all its kinetic energy all at once, Sadi keeps on talking.

“I couldn't fucking save my sister from that piece of shit Nate. I couldn’t save her from that fucker, Kellogg. I can't save Shaun now. Who the fuck even knows what I'm doing with these fucking robots?” Her voice is strained, “I...what happened, two hundred years ago. It's not my fault, yeah? I know it's not my fault. I didn't hit the big red button labeled ‘blow up the world.’ But...fuck. I was such a good soldier, you know? I was better at killing shit than I had ever been at anything else in my whole life.”

Rowdy sucks air through her teeth, because what could she even say? Sadi, and the people she lived among two-hundred years ago, they're the ones responsible for the only world Rowdy has ever known. But because she knows nothing else, she can't even say she finds this life all that terrible. They all say life is hard. But is it really?

Years ago, and it has been years, Rowdy realizes, those people she thought were her friends, left her along the side of the road to die in agony. But those people she knows are her friends, they saved her. They didn't even know her, back then, but they saved her.

“What happens if we don't go back?” Rowdy asks. Because all the other stuff. The shit about going back in time, like none of this ever happened? That's off the fucking table. So they just have to take a step forward. Gotta pick a direction and go. But that direction? Doesn't have to be back to the scavengers and the robots. Even though they maybe fucked up, getting involved like they did, doesn't mean they have to see it through to the end. It's not an either/or, there's always another way.

“Fuck if I know,” Sadi smiles, even if it's faint and strangely heavy at the corners of her mouth. “Guess we’re going to find out.” She pulls her legs towards her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins to keep them close. Rowdy doesn't bother to look away.

“Fuck ‘em, I guess.” Rowdy slides her bare feet in the dirt, letting them get messy. Her cigarette has gone out.

The crows perch just feet from where they sit. Dark eyes glassy in the lights that persist through the night. They warble around the ground, never getting too close, feathers around their necks puffing out as they vocalize.

“Hey, doll, Rowdy,” Sadi corrects herself. “What do you think?”

“Unless we head back in that direction, I don't think Mandy will send anyone after us. She's seen you fight. Doesn't want to fuck with that. And the robots, doesn't look like they leave the ship.”

“Nah,” Sadi drawls, “I mean, about us?”

“Oh.” Rowdy reaches over, across Sadi’s body to grab the lighter from her opposite pocket. By the time she gets her cigarette relit, she figures she's gotta have something to tell Sadi. Not like she hasn't thought about this. Tried not to. Never works.

Rowdy gets this idea. And it's just strange enough that Sadi might like it.

“Close your eyes. Count to ten.”

Sadi listens, letting her eyes drift closed. “One, two…”

Rowdy stands up. Her feet are still bare, and she's unarmed. Anything could be waiting for them in the night. But Sadi’s legs are long, and she's fast and strong and has a laser pistol strapped to her hip. Even with ten seconds lead, she’ll catch Rowdy real quick.

Rowdy takes one drag of her cigarette before dropping it in the dirt. 

“Three, four.”

Rowdy runs, straight ahead, into the overgrowth that chokes the muddy wetness that surrounds the garage. Sludge gets in between her toes and she's probably taking more rads than she should and maybe a mirelurk darts out and takes her down.

“Five, six,” Sadi’s volume raises, so it keeps up with Rowdy’s ears as she puts distance between them. “Seven, eight-nineten!” The numbers bunch up, falling out of Sadi’s mouth as one long stream. That cheater.

Rowdy looks back at Sadi, already gaining ground. The dried grass scratches against her bare legs as she tries to speed up, but she already knows she's losing. She's been letting Sadi gain ground on her since the moment they met. Wasn't much she could do about it. Her lungs burn and her feet are wet and sore all at once.

Sadi comes within half a step, her boots cracking and sloshing where Rowdy’s footprints were light. She grabs Rowdy around the waist, and Rowdy, out of adrenaline or instinct, almost starts screaming. But there's no time. Sadi’s got Rowdy’s feet up off the ground, though only for as long as it takes to swing her around, crash their lips together.

The inside of Sadi’s mouth tastes sweet like sugar and harsh like ash, and Rowdy has kissed her enough times before to know Sadi isn't really sure. She's not really sure how she feels or Rowdy feels because this was all just supposed to be for fun. But it's okay, right? It's okay to love something...someone...who makes you laugh, right? Even if it's against your better judgement?

So Rowdy kisses back, throwing her arms around Sadi’s shoulders and keeping her at a reasonable height that they can stand together in the almost-darkness. As long as their mouths are busy, neither of them need to say anything at all. But there's the small matter of breathing. 

When Sadi pulls back, she takes Rowdy’s entire vocabulary with her.

“I...shit,” Sadi starts laughing. “I got this feeling, like if I say it, you're gonna break my heart, doll.”

“So, maybe we run from this, too?”

Sadi shakes her head, straight, white teeth glinting in the darkness. “Don't mind this explosion too much, if you don’t.”

Rowdy’s still got her arms wrapped around Sadi’s neck. She doesn't let go.

“Nah, don't mind.”

The shrapnel of Sadi’s love is gonna be lodged in her for a long time. But Rowdy’s pretty sure that's alright. Got meaner things stuck in her already. Might as well heal around something sort of beautiful too.


End file.
